by Misti Murphy
“I am not dating the nanny.”
“Really? Because it kind of seems like we’re on a double date right now.”
“Nope. That’s not what’s happening.” I pick up the schooner and take a sip of the light ale, then adjust the way my knife and fork sit on my plate. Just because Abby is still with my parents and we’re picking her up on the way to the airport doesn’t make this a date. Is that really what this looks like from the outside? This dinner with my family and my nanny? I glance around the restaurant, checking to see if there’s any media around, anyone surreptitiously holding a cell phone. Because if this gets out, there’s every chance my sponsors would desert me. I’m already behind this season. I can’t afford to lose any more ground, or my career might as well be over. “Anyway, it was your fiancée who asked her to come along. I didn’t.”
“No, you were just the one dicking his employee.” Paynter leans in. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t that what we heard when we entered your apartment?”
“I’m not discussing my social life with you.”
“Right, so you’ll tell me for years that you get laid all the time, but all of a sudden this discussion is off the table? Do you know what this sounds like to me?”
“None of your business,” I snap. I’m done with this conversation. What’s happening between Erin and I is no one’s business but ours. I’m not about to make this day even more embarrassing for her.
“What about Abby? Just think about her before you make any rash decisions, yeah? Because she adores Erin. Almost as much as she adores Spot,” Paynt says, throwing himself back in his chair like he’s done with this conversation as well.
“What are we talking about?” Erin asks from behind me.
“Nothing,” I tell her, glaring at Paynter in the universal way brothers tell each other to shut the fuck up.
“Goats. It’s always goats,” he says. “How they climb all over one another and how they’re always so stubborn they can’t help but get themselves into trouble. Isn’t everything always about goats?”
“That was James.” Chloe returns to the table and sits down, a megawatt smile on her face. “He said he is sorry he couldn’t join us, but he’s still finishing up at the office.”
“What’s new?” Paynt says.
“He’s getting worse in his old age,” I agree. “That business is his mistress.”
“He’s dedicated. Hard-working. He has priorities,” Chloe sticks up for her boss and soon to be brother-in-law. “But that’s not the point. James had some news.”
“Clearly good news, by the looks of it.” I put my hand out to signal the waiter. “Champagne good?”
“Yes. I think so.” She nods and rests her hand on Paynter’s forearm while she explains how her ex and Paynt’s ex had contrived to ruin my brother’s budding relationship, and now both exes have been drummed out of their professions. Karma strikes again.
“Definitely news to toast to.” I say as the drinks waiter approaches our table. “Can we get a bottle of Dom?”
“Certainly, sir.” He leaves to fetch the bottle.
Erin’s eyes briefly widen at the mention of the champagne. Has she never tasted Dom before? She’s been a nanny for eight years, so one of those rich families she worked for introduced her, surely. “Dom Perignon. Have you tried it?”
“Can’t say I have.” She shakes her head.
“Well then, this should be a real treat.”
After we toast to Chloe’s good news, Paynter and I haggle over the bill, and then we all go our separate ways. Erin and I spend the drive to collect Abby in silence, but I don’t think either of us wants the last thing we say to each other before I catch my flight to be about my thoughts on her best friend.
Abby rushes us the minute we get in my parents’ front door. Dressed in pigtails and pajamas, she bypasses me and clings to Erin. “Gramma bought me new pjs. They have goats and pigs and ducks.”
She starts pointing out the animals as my mother calls out let Dad. “Keith, turn that TV off. Garrett’s here to pick up Abby.”
“Okay, okay. Hold your horses, Jill. I’m coming,” comes the grunted reply from my father in the living room.
“Abby was wonderful as always,” Mom says. “She’s my favorite grandchild.”
“She’s your only grandchild,” both Dad and I say at the same time.
“We made cookies,” Abby whispers excitedly to Erin, who scoops her up.
“Ooh, what kind?”
“Choc chip. They were yummy.” She throws her arms around Erin’s neck. “Sorry, I didn’t save you any. Pop-pop ate them all.”
“Dad,” I mock growl. “You couldn’t leave me one of my daughter’s cookies?”
“Yes, well.” He scrubs a hand down the back of his neck, looking sheepish. Mostly because Mom is giving him the same look she used to give us kids when we’d pilfer her kitchen for goodies. “It’s my house.”
“So you’re the new nanny?” Mom’s attention finally zooms in on Erin. “You’re a lot younger and prettier than I expected.”
“And stubborn,” I add before my mother can go any further with that line of thought. The next thing young and pretty will turn into is “she has childbearing hips” and “I’m not getting any younger.” “Never seen anyone so determined to get the job. Abby loves her too.”
“You’re planning on sticking around for a long time then, Erin?” Dad asks. “May as well consider yourself a part of the family. Isn’t that right, son?”
“Um, yes, well.” Oh shit. I might be overly friendly with the nanny, but they’re welcoming her to the family like they know something is going on. “You know Erin’s with us in a professional capacity. It’s not, uh—”
“That’s a lovely sentiment,” Erin interjects.
“Yes, come and go as you like,” Mom says. “I’d love to see my granddaughter as often as you’d like to bring her to visit.”
“Thank you. As long as I’m Abby’s nanny, I’ll take you up on that.” Erin smiles at both of my parents. By the time she catches my eye, she’s mollified my parents and kept me from sticking my foot in my mouth.
“We better get to the airport. I need to catch my flight.” I take my daughter from her arms and Erin gathers up Abby’s belongings.
In the car, Abby will not shut up about Spot and how Pop-pop said he would take her fishing soon.
“We’re going to catch fishes this big,” she says, holding her arms out wide. “Pop-pop says so. Do you like fishing, Erin?”
“You’ll probably go on a day Erin has off.” I glance at my daughter in the rearview mirror.
“I’m sure you and your pop-pop will have lots of fun,” Erin says. “Like I used to with my grandpa.”
Erin’s gaze drifts to mine more and more as we get closer to the airport, and she puts her hand down on the seat beside her leg. I fight the urge to grip it, to lay her palm on my thigh. I want to kiss her or say something about what happened earlier today, but there’s so much we haven’t talked about. Like the fact that Paynter and Chloe busting us is a timely reminder that we have to be a lot more careful, especially around Abby. I don’t want my daughter thinking of Erin as anything more than her nanny. As much as I want Erin, I’m not going to give Abby some misguided hope that she can rely on anyone as much as she can on me. And how does Erin feel about the fact I’m going to continue to pay her to be Abby’s nanny when I also want to fuck her into my mattress every night I’m home?
By the time we get to the drop-off zone outside the airport Abby’s asleep, her head is thrown back at an uncomfortable angle and her mouth hangs wide open. So I lean across the back seat to sneak a kiss on her forehead while Erin comes around to the driver’s side. When I close the door, we hover next to each other. We’re close enough to touch, but neither of us does. I breathe deeper, just to fill my lungs with her scent. To our side, somewhere on the pavement, a flash goes off, and she blinks.
Probably someone taking photos of me, so I don’t hug or kiss
her despite how much I want to. It’s best we don’t give them anything more than they already have. Just two people facing each other on the pavement, not sleeping together. “I’ll call you as soon as I land.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Look after my little girl.” I take a step back.
“Abby will be fine.” She smiles. “You know you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Think of me?”
“Haven’t been able to stop,” she whispers.
And then I spin on my heel and collect my suitcase and clubs from the back of the Range Rover. By the time I shut the back, Erin is settled behind the steering wheel. Stepping up on the pavement, I tap my forehead with my pointer finger, and with a wave she drives off. The whole thing feels odd, and I walk into the terminal almost relieved that I’ve got a week to work out the rules of this new situation between the nanny and I.
***
Abby wraps both arms around my neck and squeezes. “Can you tell me about the ducks that flew up when you hit the ball into the water again?”
When I got home a couple hours ago, Abby attached herself to my leg like a new shoe and started chattering on about the ducks she and Erin saw on television while they watched me play. Thankfully, she didn’t mention my pathetic swing that landed the ball right in among the ducks with a plop that made them ruffle their wings and quack as they swam away. “Sweet pea, I’ve told you everything.”
Erin sits across from us on the other sofa, one foot curled up under her, her fingers fast at work on a loose thread on one of the cushions. Her gaze tracks mine, while I take in every little movement she makes. I haven’t been able to ignore her since I walked in the door. Haven’t been able to touch her either. And I want—no, need—to get close to her. My skin is buzzing. And after the calls we shared where she told me about her sexual fantasies, the moment I saw her at the airport I wanted to kiss her, push her up against a wall and get inside her. More than that, I wanted to wrap my arms around her waist and bury my nose in her hair.
Fuck, If Callum knew that when he was congratulating me earlier for staying out of the spotlight he was really congratulating me on fucking my nanny, he might not have been so impressed.
She gives me a tight smile and squirms.
“Quack, quack, quack.” Abby giggles. “Erin took me to the zoo, and we got to see all the animals.”
“Let me guess. Now you want an elephant.”
“No, Dad.” She clasps my face between her hands. “Don’t be silly. I want a goat like Spot.”
And I want your nanny. Climbing off the couch, I toss my daughter over my shoulder. “Come on, time to go to bed.”
“I don’t want to go to bed.” She lets go of my neck with one hand and rubs her eye. “I’m not tired.”
“You’re plenty tired, Abby.” Erin follows us to the bedroom. “We had a big day. Your dad had a big day as well. We need to let him rest too.”
“Can we have pancakes for breakfast because dad’s home? They’re his favorite.”
“Are they now?” Erin stays by the door as I plop Abby onto her bed and pull up her covers.
“Yup.” I wink at Abby and tuck her covers up under her chin.
“Okay,” Erin agrees. “We’ll do pancakes.”
“Good night, sweet pea,” I whisper, but she’s halfway to sleep the minute her head hits the pillow. And she’s snoring by the time I join Erin.
“She’s out,” Erin whispers as we step out of view.
“Good. I grip her wrist and pull her closer; my other hand gets tangled in her hair as I cover her mouth with my own.
She throws an arm around my neck, pulling at me, trying to get closer, trying to climb me as our tongues war with each other. Her leg winds around my hip, and I grip her ass and lift her up, striding down the corridor, away from my daughter’s room. “Fuck, you feel good.”
“Being away from you all week. And those phone calls.” She pants between kisses. “It’s so hard.”
“You’re telling me. I could hammer nails with this thing.” I press her to my hardness so she can feel what I’ve had to put up with because of her.
“What are you doing? The bedrooms are back there.” She breaks off our kiss long enough to ask as we enter the living room. “I thought you were taking me to bed.”
“You’re going to get loud, Red.” I suck at her bottom lip as I bypass the living room and the kitchen, moving straight through to the dining room we barely use. “Too loud to be so close to little ears. Besides, where do you think she’ll look for me first if she wakes?”
“Good point,” she agrees.
“Now let’s get you out of these clothes.” I put her down on the dining table and grab her oversized shirt to pull it over her head. I drop the garment on the wooden table top and undo the clasp on her bra while I run my mouth along her throat. “I’ve wanted to get my mouth back between your thighs since you told me how much you enjoyed it last time.”
“I’m not going to deny it.” She tugs at my shirt, pulling it over my head before I press her down on the table and add her pants to the pile. “But, Garrett, I don’t want to wait to feel you inside me.”
“I’m not going to make you wait in a way you won’t enjoy.” The need for release courses through me, but we finally have time, so I’m not going to rush this. I bend over her and press another kiss on her mouth and then move slowly down her throat to her breasts. I suck and lick at her nipples, until she arches up, her quick breaths making her tits rise and fall under my mouth. “Besides, I owe you.”
“You do,” she murmurs as I skim her belly with my teeth until I reach her panties. Not-so-sensible silk and lace. “Then you should definitely give me what I want. Or are you always so bossy about sex?”
Hooking a finger in the front, I draw them down an inch and kiss the spot now revealed, then I do it again and again until her panties are around her knees. “Maybe I am used to getting my own way a little too much.”
“Do you think?” She shoves at my shoulder. “You’re still trying to eat me.”
“Well, that’s because I’ve been thinking about it for days. Fantasizing about exactly how I am going to give you what you deserve.”
“And what do I deserve?” she asks, eyes wide, lips drifting apart. “In your opinion?”
I drag her panties all the way off and drop them on top of her shirt. Then I get on my knees and draw her to the edge of the table. There’s a shimmer of her arousal on the creamy skin of her thighs that begs for my tongue, and I lap it up as I stroke my thumb along her slit. “To come. A lot. On my mouth, on my fingers, and on my cock.”
“Oh God, Garrett,” she moans. I’ve barely touched her and she’s already making those same sounds she’d wrung from her own lips during our phone calls. “I can definitely get on board with that.”
Digging my thumb into her center, I lean in and lap at her clit. Slow, easy strokes that make her hips undulate as her arousal coats my lips. I don’t think I could ever forget her taste.
“It feels so good.” She tries to whisper, but it’s more of a keening sound. The urgency, the desire in it, makes my cock rigid. I flick my tongue over that sensitive spot again and again until she thumps her head against the table. “Oh shit, Garrett. I’m going to, oh, uh, jees—”
Wrapping my hands around her hips, I hold her to my mouth, stroke inside her with my tongue, and feel the muscles in her thighs quiver next to my ears as she cries out. I don’t stop until she does.
When she quiets, I climb to my feet and wipe my chin before pulling her up and kissing her. “I love how you sound when you orgasm. It’s music to my damn ears.”
She squeezes my shoulder, holding me to her while she bites her lip. “Why don’t you make me sing again?”
“I plan on it,” I tell her, tugging her off the table. “That was just the opener.”
She eyes my belt then reaches for the buckle, undoing it and my zipper. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk a big game?”
“Only when it comes to golf.” I grab the condom from my pocket as she sinks to her knees, shoving my pants down to the floor as she goes.
“Well, you do.”
I touch the side of her face as she opens to take me in her mouth. Those lips form a tight seal as they move up and down my length. Watching her suck my cock while she gives me hell for my bedside manner is beautiful. Unique. It makes me want her even more. “The game isn’t important here. This isn’t...” Her hands grip my ass, pulling me more firmly to her. “Oh God. You need to stop or we’re not going to get to the main event.”
She lets me slip from between her lips then wipes the back of her hand across her mouth while she stands up to tap a finger against my lip. “Stop talking about games.”
“Okay.” I grip her wrist, tug her against me. “No games. No lines. I want to fuck you over this table. And probably a whole heap of other places. And then I want to cuddle. Which is fucking weird for me, but that’s what I want.”
“That’s what I want too.” She sits on the edge of the table, and I stretch the condom over my erection and crowd her back against the shining wood.
She gives a little yip when she loses her balance. Gripping the back of her thighs, I lift her up onto the surface and get between her legs. She’s all satiny skin and heat and dark pupils under heavy lids. She reaches between us to squeeze my cock and guide it to her entrance, and I kiss her long and hard as I push into her slowly.
The heavy table shifts and scrapes on the floor to the rhythm of our unhurried thrusting. Her hands exploring my skin and the tiny whimpers she makes under my mouth push me to go faster, harder, deeper. Her whole body moves up the table as I piston into her, and I crawl over her until we’re both on the table. I slide a hand under her and press it to the small of her back, holding her closer as I slam into her and she cries out. Under us, the table creaks and groans with all the pounding. Lemon-scented furniture polish blends with sweat. She slaps her hand across her mouth, but it doesn’t make her quiet. Slipping my hand over hers, I press my lips to her ear. “Come with me.”
